


Old Friend

by Blitzindite



Series: The V'ehsz Legacy [14]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, Mirialans (Star Wars), Old Friends, Post-Star Wars: The Old Republic - Knights of the Eternal Throne, Pre-Canon, Reunions, Sparring, Zabraks (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitzindite/pseuds/Blitzindite
Summary: Next thing he knew, the air was forced from his lungs as he landed flat on his back. He had to spend a few moments coughing and catching his breath, and looking up revealed the Zabrak with her hands on her hips and a smirk painted across her face. “Guess you win,” he croaked.
Series: The V'ehsz Legacy [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862341





	Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mild Violence (sparring, non-malicious)  
> Characters: [Varrich Tophrik (Meteor - Mirialan)](https://toyhou.se/7155691.varrich-tophrik), [Zip Drakou (Trooper - Zabrak)](https://toyhou.se/9243919.zip-drakou)  
> -  
> here’s some Varrich & Zip Academy days shenanigans/their reunion on Odessen no one asked for :P

Shuffling feet, traded blows, heads ducking and bodies twisting to dodge.

Sweat slicked his brow, a few dyed hairs had come loose from his ponytail to hang in his face, and he was certain his knuckles would be bruised by morning.

Even so, he huffed good-naturedly as his opponent teased and tried to goad him on.

“You’re enjoying this a bit too much,” he noted.

“And _you’re_ finally getting tired.”

Varrich snorted at that, swinging with a heavy fist that she barely twisted away from. “ _I_ don’t have two hearts.”

She grinned. It revealed her too-sharp teeth, yet held no malice. “Aw, come on, Vehr. That’s no excuse!”

“I think that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse.” He didn’t grin—he never grinned—but one corner of his lip did turn up slightly.

They were both sweaty and covered in grime from knocking each other to the ground, her horns had nicked his fingers a few times to leave them stinging and bloody, his muscles ached and chest heaved with the effort to keep up their little dance, but…

“Okay, I’ll admit it: Your endurance _is_ getting better,” Zip chuckled as she swiped at her brow with her bare forearm. Her hair was even spikier than usual, wild and sticking up in every direction. Somewhere during their match, the jewelry had been knocked from her horns and probably lay in pieces kicked around through the dirt.

Varrich’s eyes shifted toward the rest of the yard, where lights were starting to turn on with the coming night and smoke billowed from the kitchen where the evening meal was being prepared. They’d definitely need to freshen up before heading to the mes…

Combing loose strands of white hair out of his face, he tipped his head toward the kitchen. “Last round?”

“Last one standing wins.” She grinned as she shifted back into a slight crouch.

Zip was far faster than him, smaller—but he was also nearly twice her weight and could easily lift her off her feet. His timing would have to be just right…

She swung the first blow that he caught with his arm. Another, another…

Her feet shifted so she could launch herself at him, and he took his chance, grabbing for her arm and—

One of Zip’s feet twisted behind his, pulling one of his legs out from under him as she turned, rolled forward, used his own weight against him to pull him right along with her.

Next thing he knew, the air was forced from his lungs as he landed flat on his back. He had to spend a few moments coughing and catching his breath, and looking up revealed the Zabrak with her hands on her hips and a smirk painted across her face.

“Guess you win,” he croaked.

“What’s that bring us to? Three to two, you?” She reached a hand down to help pull him back to his feet and ruffled a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. He didn’t bother to bat her away and instead rolled his eyes. “I just gotta win one more and we’re tied again.”

* * *

With only a few proper machines to help them, it was slow work. Most of the planting and fencing was done completely by hand for the Alliance’s brand new crop fields, and it was exhausting but so, _so_ rewarding.

Varrich wiped the sweat from his brow, tucked loose strands of graying hair back behind his ears, and brought the heavy post driver down again—again—again. There were others scattered around doing the same, and the sounds of metal-on-metal echoed far beyond the fields were the mismatched fencing was being erected.

Other posts, the large metal ones or hand-cut wooden ones that post drivers would be of ill use for, had holes dug for them instead (with the holes being one of the few things they currently had machinery for). The posts were held steady by Alliance volunteers, while the experienced farmers poured duracrete to hold them in place.

It made for an ugly fence—a crooked fence—but it would do.

His shoulder ached and prosthetic creaked with protest from all the harsh strain of the last few days, but he ignored it as he kept up his work. The fences were almost done, then he’d give himself a breather and let Yuun check his arm, just like he’d promised to his sister.

He just wanted to see this through, first.

Only when the post stood steady did Varrich finally step away and pull the canteen from his belt for a drink. The water was lukewarm and tasted of dust from the work going on, but it was still water and he wasn’t about to be picky.

Conversation drifted over the hills between the clanging of post drivers, or post being dropped, or the occasional speeder engines as more supplies were brought from base. His gaze drifted about, taking in the scene before him. At the rate they were going, they might finish the fencing by evening.

“Watch those Shade Stalkers,” ordered one of the Alliance troopers tasked with protecting the farmers and engineers from the Odessen wildlife. “They’re starting to come too close.”

Clipping his canteen back at his belt, Varrich’s brows furrowed. That voice…

The trooper was Zabrak, with spiky hair and sharp horns and dark tattoos visible even on the back of her neck. Gray and yellow armor, a heavy weapon slung across her back…

When she turned and their eyes met, hers widened with surprise. They studied him a moment, traced the tattoos spanning his face, the cybernetics.

Then she grinned, her feet carrying her in the easy run that had earned her that nickname all those years ago. “Vehr? That really you?”

“Zip. It’s…good to see you.” What else was there to say? They hadn’t so much as spoken since Varrich graduated, but her smile was the same one he remembered from his cadet days—with the exception of a few metal teeth that glinted under the sunlight, and that burns marring one side of her face seemed to pull a bit at her lip.

He had little to say. He wasn’t the same man she’d remember from the Academy. Those days were a long time ago, and a lot had happened since.

But…he also couldn’t bring himself to turn away, ignore her, so he could get back to work. Those days may have been long past, but they’d been good days.

So instead, he nodded to the next post laying where it needed to be put up and allowed her help with it. He listened to her words that were mostly small talk as she tried to break the ice of many years, remaining mostly quiet as he had little to say himself. But it was…nice, hearing what she’d been up to since they’d been apart.

Maybe Lina had been right. A friend would be good for him.

She just…probably hadn’t expected it to be an old friend.


End file.
